You never know
by origami-doll
Summary: He was a coward. There was no better word to describe him at the moment, and that much he could admit to himself anyway. Yes, Van was a coward. And possibly of the worst kind there is. The kind that acts only for personal convenience.
1. Chapter 1

**You never know...**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

He stared across the large room at all the familiar faces, at all his most beloved and trustworthy friends.

Friends he knew he could count on for everything, who he confided in, who he sought advice from in troublesome times and who treasured his friendship as much as he did theirs.

Friends who were the _last_ people he wanted to spend that particular evening with!

He glanced sideways at the ornate door at the end of the reception room and sighed. He needed to get out of there. Fast! He needed to clear his mind from the thoughts that had been plaguing him all day, and a walk by the near Palas' sea shore seemed to be just what the doctor would order.

As his mind secretly contemplated ways of exiting the premises without rising awareness, a joyful, energetic voice behind him broke through his musings.

"Why the brooding mood, your highness?"

He quickly turned to face his speaker, slightly alarmed his aloofness was apparently visible to others. "Ah, Dryden!" His lips curled up in a not-so-convincing smile. "It's nothing. Really! I'm just a little tired from the trip, that's all."

Which was not entirely untrue. The three day journey he had undertaken by carriage from Fanelia to Asturia had definitely worn him out, though not enough to fully blame it for his current mood.

That was perhaps why he was met with a sceptical stare.

"Alright, Van! I'll pretend I believe you." Asturia's king took a small sip of wine from the delicate crystal glass in his hand before continuing. "Do try to enjoy the evening! The rest of us are! After all, it is the first time in two years we've managed to get _everybody_ together!" He added with narrowed eyes.

That little condemnatory remark was in its whole intended for Fanelia's king, who for the last couple of years had very successfully avoided every single reunion the monarchs of Asturia were known to throw for their friends in memory of their comradeship during the Destiny War.

It was not like he didn't appreciate spending time with his friends. He really did!

He enjoyed his political debates with Dryden, Millerna and young Chid; though with Dryden they were often more on the lines of violent discussions!

He enjoyed his sparring matches with Allen, who had turned out to be an unlikely mentor to him, in many ways like Vargas had been. It was indeed astonishing to see how much of Vargas had rubbed on Allen!

He also appreciated his peaceful walks with the good-natured and friendly Celena through Asturia's capital city and, last but not least, his not so discreet drunken escapades with the Crusade crew. He was actually surprised Gadeth and Kio still had functional livers! Those men didn't play when it came to booze!

No, he loved being around them! Just not all at the same time; _that_, he couldn't cope with very well. Because being with all of them under the same roof, remembering their trials and tribulations during the most hectic moments of their friendship, also brought back memories of a certain someone he had been desperately trying to push to the back of his mind.

But he couldn't come up with excuses forever, and as Asturia prepared itself for the festival of the decade – in celebration of the fifth anniversary of the end of the war – festival to which every prominent ruler from Gaea had been cordially invited to, he annoyingly had acquiesced to the invitation and now found himself, one day before the beginning of the official festivities, in one of the dreaded "happy" reunions, thrown in haste by a very enthusiastic Dryden Fassa.

He was about to give his friend a piece of his mind when a small and delicate hand touched his shoulder. "Is my husband bothering you again, Van?"

The two kings turned to face a very much amused and very much pregnant, Millerna Sarah Aston.

"Not as much as usual. But the night is still young!" Van smiled at the queen. "You look beautiful, Millerna!"

And she really did. Of course she had always been a beautiful woman, but pregnancy had really brought upon her an unique and captivating radiance.

"Why thank you, Van! Hmm, I have to say though I hardly _feel_ beautiful these days!" She sighed, as she came to stand next to her husband.

Dryden chuckled loudly. "I'm afraid my wife is getting a little tired of her condition." He gently rested his free hand on her enlarged belly. "It won't be long now, my love!"

"I sure hope so!" She glanced briefly at Van before eyeing her husband lovingly. "Should we ask him now?"

"Ask me what?"

After a silent nod from her husband she turned her attention back to the young monarch. A hopeful smile was playing in her lips as she took Van's hand in her small ones.

"Well, Dryden and I were hoping…you would give us the honour of being our daughter's…"

"…our son's…" Dryden swiftly cut in.

"…our daughter's…" Millerna continued ignoring him.

"We're having a _son_!"

"We're having a _daughter_, Dryden Fassa!"

Van frowned. He was beginning to get slightly alarmed as the couple in front of him exchanged defying stares.

It only lasted a few seconds though. The smile was back to Millerna's lips as she spoke again a moment later. "As I was saying before I was cruelly interrupted, we would love it if you would accept to be..." She glanced at Dryden sideways. "…our _child's_ godfather."

Van's eyes widened.

…

"I…I don't know what to say!"

A few moments went by. The future parents looked at him expectantly.

The young king remained silent for awhile; obviously astonished by the unexpected request, but eventually an earnest smile splashed across his features. He nodded his head enthusiastically at the same time he pulled a hand trough his already dishevelled hair. "Of course, of course! I would be honoured to be your son's…I mean daughter's…I mean child's godfather!"

A small squeak of delight was all Van heard before a mountain of blonde hair clouded his vision as the soon-to-be mother came to hug his neck tightly. Dryden also came to pat him on the back, insisting on sharing the good news immediately with the rest of their friends.

Cheers erupted throughout the reception room with all the glasses being raised in a toast to the unborn baby and his (or hers) new godfather.

"You do know what this means don't you, Van?" Dryden eventually asked after the cheers subsided. "You'll be forced to come to visit us a lot more often. After all, you can't neglect your godchild!"

Van's voice was suddenly glum as he averted his gaze to a nearby window. "If you promise not to arrange one of these reunions every time I stop by."

The young couple exchanged a knowing look.

"By the way, who will be the godmother?" Van asked as he shifted his focus back to them.

"Oh!" The couple seemed a little surprised by the question. "A dear family friend!" Millerna finally answered. "Honey!" She eyed Dryden conspiratorially. "We should see how the preparations for dinner are getting along. I don't know about the two of you, but the two of us are starving!" She smiled with a hand over her stomach.

"Of course, dear! Excuse us for a moment, Van." As he prepared to follow his wife, he nonetheless turned to his young gloomy friend with an odd grin plastered on his face. "Do lighten up! As you said so yourself, the night is still young! You never know what it has in store for you!" And he was off to the adjacent room, leaving a very puzzled Van behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**You never know...**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Twenty minutes later Van was perched on the balcony railing outside the reception room, tediously watching his friends inside. He hadn't been able to go through with his initial plan to escape them. Somehow, Merle and Celena had decided to mount guard in front of the only exit door. It was obvious to him that they suspected what was going through his mind. Damn those two for knowing him so well!

So, after repeatedly turning down Kio's challenge to a drinking contest, Van had inconspicuously fled to the balcony, hoping he could, at least, get a chance to mope around in peace.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. That evening was turning out exactly the way he had dreaded.

He could see Teo, Katsu and Riden entertaining Chid with a sort of small role-play of some Crusade adventure, which Van was positively sure was being exaggerated in every possible aspect.

Pairu and Oruto, on their turn, seemed to had taken on Kio's drinking challenge themselves as the three of them kept filling their glasses with the wine the young duke had brought specially from Freid for that particular night. Their complexions were already turning slightly reddish. That was a clear sign that the erratic singing would soon follow.

As for Gadeth, at first glance one would think he was happily engaged in his comrades' activities. In truth however, he wasn't paying the slightest attention to any of them. They could be mimicking monkeys for all he cared, as his gaze was far off on the other side of the room, settled upon a graceful blonde young woman.

Why Celena was never able to figure out the man was absolutely fascinated by her, Van couldn't tell. Why Gadeth had never had the guts to tell her that himself, he couldn't understand either.

"Then again, who am I to point the finger?" He dejectedly thought to himself.

As Van looked to where his young blonde friend stood, he suddenly caught on Merle's fuming expression beside her. She looked ready to kill! It appeared that the Moleman, who had joined the two a little earlier, was currently trying to sell them some worthless trinket; seeming to be very insistent upon it.

Van smiled despite himself. "I would run while I can if I were you." He whispered. Van knew Merle's short temper all to well and her low tolerance for that particular man wasn't going to help the situation either. Nope, that was not going to end up nice.

As he waited for her impending outburst, a strange feeling that he was being watched suddenly came over him and as he scanned the reception room, he spotted three pairs of eyes on him that after being caught swiftly looked away.

In a corner, Allen, Dryden and Millerna were having a little private chat; the topic of conversation no doubt being about him. Van didn't need to be clairvoyant to figure that one out. After all, they had been behaving oddly towards him the whole day. Not that he really cared anymore! They all knew very well he wasn't exactly thrilled to be where he was at the moment, and as far as he was concerned, he was done with hiding it.

So as the three of them discreetly turned to look back at Van, he himself turned his back on the party, intent on, at least, enjoying the views of the capital city while he was there.

He regretted doing so two seconds later though.

Two gigantic orbs had just come up from behind Pallas' eastern mountains, casting their captivating light over the land. The smaller one; a lifeless sphere of a pale grey colour. The bigger one; blue, green, white, full of life... and memories.

Van hung his head in defeat. There was no point in running away. _She_ was everywhere that night.

"Moping around again, are you?" Cried a sympathetic voice from behind him.

"Not you too, Allen."

An amused laugh was all that reached Van's ears as his friend came to join him where he stood.

Both of them stayed silent for a few moments; both enjoying the cool night's breeze. Well, one more than the other.

"The moons are bright tonight, aren't they?" Allen finally asked.

An incoherent grumble was the only response Van deigned himself to give him.

The knight eyed the young monarch carefully before continuing. "You know, it was in this very spot that I said goodbye to _her_ almost five years ago."

Van met Allen's gaze for the first time since he'd joined him on the balcony. "Who's _her_?" He tried to sound disinterested. "Who are you talking about?"

The knight's eyebrow arched up. "Oh, stop it, you idiot. You know very well who I'm talking about. It's the same person who has been on your mind the whole day."

Van stared at him, clearly annoyed. He immediately opened his mouth to protest against his friend's remark, but soon decided against it. What was the point of refuting it anyway? Allen would surely not be deceived by any argument he could come up with. He knew him all too well to be fooled. Damn him!

So instead, Van just gulped down the rest of the drink in his hands without uttering a single word; secretly hoping the subject would be dropped by his lack of resistance to it.

Unfortunately for him, Allen was not planning on letting it go so easily. "I've been meaning to ask you, how is she doing these days?"

The look of confusion on the king's face forced the knight to elaborate.

"Well, you are the _only_ person around here who, as far as I know, can _see_ her from time to time. It's true you don't seem very willing to share information about her as of late, but it's only natural I would ask you. She was my frien-"

"She's fine." Van promptly cut in. His voice calm and composed. A little too calm and composed. "I... can't really speak to her, so I can't be sure, but she seems fine."

He was silent for a few moments then, apparently struggling with his thoughts. "She seems... very happy actually." He added not so composedly after a moment of hesitation and beside him Allen could have sworn he saw him flinch slightly, as if admitting that out loud somehow brought him pain.

"I'm... glad to hear that." The knight declared nonetheless. "She deserves it."

Van nodded quietly; his gaze now lost somewhere on the Mystic Moon.

His sudden distant countenance gave Allen the perfect opportunity to study him more intently. That solemn, almost sad expression he often bore (and often tried to conceal) when discussing that particular person, was one Allen had grown accustomed to in recent years. And he knew quite well the reason behind it. "You miss her."

It wasn't a question.

Van snickered under his breath. "Are you starting with t_hat_ again?"

"Well, you went through a lot together. It's only natural you would miss her."

"_We_ went through a lot together?" Van whispered to himself. "Do _you_ miss her?" Van asked, finally turning to face him.

The knight immediately felt the scrutiny of his gaze, but remained calm. _That_ was another thing he had grown accustomed to in their scarce but often heated conversations about her. "Of course." He finally answered. "She was a dear friend to me."

"A friend." Van repeated. The irony was evident in his tone.

Allen sighed. It was in times like these that he wished he could forget Van was a powerful monarch and just hit him across the head. Although appearing to everyone as an extremely confident and strong man, Van was in some ways still the same awkward boy Allen had met years ago, with many of the same insecurities and suspicions; unfounded jealousy being one of them.

"Yes, a friend. It wasn't to me she gave her heart to. _You_ know that." Allen retorted at last.

Van was once again taken aback by his friend's blunt remark. But he knew Allen was right. Of course he knew. And it was because he did indeed know it very well that he felt so miserable.

Allen didn't pursue his interrogation after that and Van was left to his own thoughts for a few moments. The dark sky in front of them was being illuminated every once in awhile by different coloured lights. Fireworks. Somewhere on the deserted beach ahead someone was testing different types of fireworks, no doubt in preparation for the festivities that were to take place in the next few days. So far they looked promising.

"Do you remember that time, when you told me you had asked her to marry you?" Van inquired, breaking the silence between them.

Allen said he did. He actually remembered it very well. They had soon after left for the final battle of the Destiny war.

"I wanted so bad to kill you right then."

The knight smiled slightly at his friend's confession. "I know."

Van faced him again; his eyes fixed on the knight's expression. "You knew, right? You always knew. How I felt about her?"

"Everyone knew, Van."

Van smiled sadly. "And yet I never told her; not once, not even when she left."

"You didn't have to. Your actions spoke louder than any words. She knew how much she meant to you." Allen calmly added.

"Even so, I wish I had told her. If only once..."

A loud roar was suddenly heard from inside the reception room interrupting the king's gloomy train of thoughts. It appeared Merle's patience had finally reached its limit. Neither Van nor Allen turned to see if the Moleman was in need of any assistance though. After all, whatever punishment Merle was bestowing on him, they both knew he most likely deserved it.

"And what are you two fine gentlemen discussing all by yourselves?" Dryden's amused voice reached them a moment later as he stepped into the balcony.

"Absent friends." Allen stated as he waved for the older king to join them.

That was all the information Dryden needed, and with a subtle, undestanding smile he stepped forward and put himself between his two friends.

He then turned to Van with a thoughtful look. "Do you know it was in this very spot that five years ago, Millerna and I actually said goodbye to Hito- "

"Yes, I know!" Van's voice came out a little harsher than he had intended, but why on Gaea was everyone so intent on talking about her that night?

The older king exchanged an amused look with the knight at his young friend's sudden outburst. It turned out Van was a lot more predictable than he thought.

"Has she changed much, Van?" He asked after assessing his friend would be able to answer him straight.

"What do you mean?" Van asked back without looking at him. He was occupying himself with studying the intricate designs on his wine glass.

"Well, she's what? Twenty, twenty-one years old now. I imagine she doesn't look the same as when we last saw her."

Van stayed silent for so long that Dryden assumed he was was just going to ignore the question altogether. "No... she doesn't." He finally answered and than the briefest of smiles appeared on his lips. "You can still tell it's her though."

Dryden urged him to go on.

Van shrugged. "I don't know... she's... taller. She's still very slender but... not in a fifteen-year-old sort of way." He eyed his friends sideways. "You know what I mean."

"Her hair is longer too… and lighter. But her eyes…" He paused for a moment to look at the Mystic Moon. The place she called home and that made him remember her so vividly. "Her eyes are still that same vibrant green and... they still glow brighter when she smiles or laughs... And she still has a lot of the same mannerisms she had, like biting her lower lip when she's nervous, or crossing her arms when she's annoyed, or blushing twenty shades of red when she's embarasssed...that happens a lot." He added with an amused laugh.

Next to him, Dryden and Allen grinned at his uncharacteristic dreamy air.

Air which Van became quickly aware of himself, swiftly straightening up; all seriousness back to his countenance. "By the way Dryden, when are you planning on serving dinner?" He inquired, changing the subject abruptly.

"Oh!" Dryden managed to blurt out, a little taken aback by his sudden mood-swing. "Actually, we're waiting for a guest." He quickly added.

"A guest? But we're all here. Did you invite someone else to the reunion?"

"Not quite. It's only my son's godmother. She promised to stop by, and since we haven't seen her in awhile..."

Van eyed him with suspicion. "Aren't you going to tell me who she is?"

An amused grin appeared in the older king's lips. "You'll soon find out. Don't worry so much. You'll like her." He assured him.

Van's eyes narrowed into slits. He knew that grin. He had seen it before.

"Oh, no. Don't even think about it, Fassa." He shook his head menacingly. "If you're planning to sit some flamboyant excuse for a princess next to me at dinner _again_, in the mad hope that I might fancy her, I'll have you know, I'm declaring war on Asturia by morning."

Dryden looked at him positively shaken. "By all means, how could you possibly think I would do to that to you?"

Van nearly crushed the delicate crystal glass in his hand. "What? How could I…? Maybe because you've done it countless times before."

"I have _not_."

Van stared at him in disbelief. "Really? Then what about Alexandria of Basram, or Valeria of Egzardia, or _Irina_ of Cezario."

Beside them, Allen laughed whole-heartedly. "Princess Irina? Oh yes, I remember her. Quite a feisty young lady."

Dryden looked rather surprised at the two of them. "Well, I happen to think Princess Irina is a rather agreeable person. Very gifted."

Van couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Gifted?... Oh, she's gifted alright! In driving a person mental. I have never met a more conceited, self-centred, egotistical individual in my whole life. Honestly Dryden, you are worse than my advisors. At least they pick women I can stand to be around for more than half-an-hour."

Dryden just shrugged at this. "Well, one day you'll have to make up your mind, Van. I'm merely opening you up to new possibilities."

"That's true. You can't stay single forever." Allen added thoughtfully. "I'm actually surprised your advisors have let you stay that way for so long. I thought they would have forced you into marriage long ago."

Van stared at his friends, his supposedly two best friends, completely stunned. How could they throw that on his face? They knew how much he hated being reminded of it.

"Why didn't I take up Kio's challenge? I could be happily drunk by now." He thought bitterly.

This time it was Allen's turn to cut through his musings. His voice was cool yet unrevealing. "Relax Van. I don't think you'll mind tonight's young lady." He saw the knight's lips twitch slightly, fighting a smile.

That drove Van over the edge. Did they really think he couldn't tell he was being played?

"Alright!" He said, trying very hard to control the growing anger cursing through his veins. "I've had enough of this. What exactly are you two schee-?"

His outburst was however cut short by the appearance of a royal servant behind them announcing dinner.

Dryden immediately took the cue and wondered off inside, followed closely by Allen. "We should get going then." He shouted cheerfully. "New possibilities await us." He added with a confident laugh while glancing back at Van.

And with that, the young king was left alone _again_.

"Can this evening possibly get any worse?" Van thought bleakly as he forced his feet to move forward, towards the torment he knew would be waiting for him in the dinning room.


	3. Chapter 3

**You never know...**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

He was a coward.

There was no better word to describe him at the moment, and that much he could admit to himself anyway.

Yes, Van was a coward. And possibly of the worst kind there is; the kind that acts only for personal (and often unreasonable) convenience.

And yet, it was because he was one, and not at all ashamed to act on it, that he now found himself liberated from a completely dreadful situation and for the first time that evening, actually able to truly relax.

He'd fled.

There's really no polite or diplomatic way to put it. He'd cowardly fled dinner. Just like that.

He'd taken advantage of the fact he'd been left alone, seemingly forgotten in the reception room for a few moments, while the others were making their way towards the dinning-parlour, and after a second of enlightenment he'd bolted out the exit door, all but ran through the entrance hall, passed the guards at the front gates with a quick yet steady pace, so as to not raise their alarm, and in less than two minutes he'd found himself in the cobblestone street just outside the palace grounds, gasping triumphantly at his feat.

Yes, yes, his conscience was not without its ounce of guilt. He did in no way regret what he had done, but he was, however, very much aware that his action would not be short of painful consequences.

Any chances of tranquillity during the rest of his stay in Pallas were now pretty much ruined. The sermons Dryden and Allen were no doubt going to be drowning him with when he returned would take care of that, he was sure.

So he might as well enjoy his last night of freedom in Asturia. And enjoying it he was! The warm weather was perfect for a stroll around the city and given that it was meal time, the streets weren't as full and busy with people as they were when he first arrived there that morning; which he found very fortunate. He could move about without drawing too much attention to himself or to his royal attire. It was a very nice night indeed!

As he rambled down the quiet streets, he couldn't help but smile as he wondered what his friend's reactions were when they found out he had indeed been able to escape them; because they surely knew by then. He had left more than an hour ago.

Had they noticed his absence immediately? It's possible that at first they thought he was taking his time in the reception room in order to prepare himself for the social obligation that was to come. So was the lady already wanting for him in the dinning-parlour? Most likely. Dryden said they wouldn't serve dinner until she arrived.

So what did they think as soon as they realized he was taking _too_ long and went back to the reception room to search for him only to find it empty? Maybe they thought he went to hide in his guestroom. Van snickered. That thought would have crossed at least Merle's mind. He wouldn't be too surprised if he were to learn she'd gone straight there and turned the place upside down looking for any signs of him.

On the other hand, maybe they sent someone to look for him in the guymelef hangar. There was where he usually fled to, after all. No, by now one of the guards he'd passed on his way out would have informed them of his escape route. Van could only imagine their shock. He was convinced Dryden would have already called him an array of not so very pleasant names. He grinned. Well, that would teach them to think twice before deciding to play around with him again.

As for the young lady he was supposed to attend to that evening, he did feel sorry for her. He didn't mean to be disrespectful towards her. How could he? He didn't even know her.

Although being very much aware of Dryden's peculiar sense of choice in picking possible brides for him, Van couldn't say he was exactly thrilled with the prospect of enlarging his base of female acquaintances. A memory of Irina of Cesario surfaced from somewhere in the back of his mind, making him shiver in disgust.

He actually liked to think of his escape that night as a favour to the young lady. After all, he was in no state of mind to be presented to anyone as an agreeable company. There was no point in making her evening dreadful as well. No, she was far better off without him. Whoever she was, she had a lot more chances in finding pleasure in even the Moleman's company that evening, than in his own.

Van was leisurely crossing Palas' main square, the one where Dryden and Milerna's very eventful wedding ceremony had taken place, when his stomach began to growl. He soon realised he hadn't eaten anything since lunch time, and almost scolded himself for missing out on the certainly delicious banquet being served at the royal palace at that moment.

Almost!

After a quick search through his pockets he found enough change for a small meal and knowing exactly where to go to appease his hungry stomach, he immediately left the square and walked south, till his intended destination came to view.

The small tavern was as he always remembered it to be. With paint peeling off the walls, huge holes in the front porch's wood planks, barrels of cheap beer piled next to the entrance, the name tag above the door completely unintelligible; the place looked ready to fall apart at any given moment. Like a small earthquake would be all it would take to do the job, and yet Van had a feeling that if that ever were to happen, the whole town would fall and he would still find that decrepit building unharmed among the wreckage.

He stopped short of the tavern's entrance to remove his dark jacket and carefully fold it so that the Fanelian royal ensigns wouldn't show, and unbuttoning the top buttons of his white sleeveless shirt, he then entered the establishment.

The smell of liquor and tobacco immediately washed over him. Just like he remembered it, alright!

His eyes travelled towards a familiar table, near a large window. It was empty, so he navigated towards it trough the crowded room and placing a chair so as to face the view outside, he let himself slump in it.

The window was opened wide allowing Van a nice view of the beach and ocean ahead; the water now dark and still.

He liked the ocean, even if he didn't get a chance to see it very often. He thought with some amusement that he'd actually seen the ocean a lot more often on the Mystic Moon than on his own planet. _She_ lived by the ocean and that's were he usually saw her.

And there it was again; his mind wandering towards her. Damn it! What was wrong with him? "I need to get back to Fanelia. That's what I need! Get back home and throw myself in paperwork. That will keep my mind busy." He kept mumbling to himself.

Someone near him coughed. He turned and saw a middle-age man, with a strong grey beard also sitting alone in the table right to his left. He seemed to be totally engrossed in the book he was reading, neglecting the bowl of steaming soup in front of him, which smell reached Van instantly. Piscus soup appeared to be on the menu that day.

In the table far to his right, a group of men were arguing loudly over a game of cards. There was no food on their table, just a dozen king-sized beer mugs which Van assumed to be pretty empty, if the gentlemen's inability to steady themselves in their seats was any indication of it.

That brought Pairu back to Van's memory. He wondered how he was doing. From the last glance he'd caught of him in the reception room, Van could tell Pairu was not so very easily trying to support himself on Kio's shoulder. He did not look well indeed.

Not that the other two looked any better themselves. Oruto and Kio had these very characteristic giddy smiles on their faces, while Gadeth was furiously scolding them for their inappropriate behaviour that Van had only seen on them before they had passed out from drinking an absurd amount of alcohol. He was beginning to realize there was a high chance he hadn't been the only one to bail out on dinner.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" A warm voice brought his mind back to the room.

He turned his head to find a girl standing right next to him with an empty tray in her hands. It took him a few seconds to figure out she was there to take his order.

"Yes." He answered a little disoriented; not really paying much attention to her. "I'd like a bowl of Piscus soup please, and some wheat bread."

He then turned to the window again, till he realized, a few moments later, the girl hadn't moved from her spot at all. He turned to look back at her.

And she was staring at him, really staring at him, _all_ of him, in a complete daze; a deep blush high on her cheeks.

"Is something wrong?" He asked a little anxious. She couldn't be recognizing him, right? The last think he wanted was someone in that tavern to find out there was a king among the costumers. That would be end of his peace for that night.

He quickly glanced at his jacket, but it was still perfectly folded on top of the table, royal ensigns hidden from view, and the rest of his clothes though probably to high up for the place did in no way give away his royal status.

"O-Oh, no sir." She managed to mumble, blushing even harder. "I'll get your order right away." And with that, she quickly ran off to the counter, almost tripping twice during the process.

Near Van, the bearded man chuckled loudly, but as soon as Van turned in his direction, the man quietly resumed his reading.

"Was that about the book...or about the girl?" Van questioned to himself.

The girl in question was soon to come around again, carrying in her full tray Van's order. She approached him in seeming nervous agitation and the bowl of soup shook so much in her hands while she was placing it in front of the young man, its contents nearly got spilled all over him.

After putting down the bread basket in the same manner, she also placed a glass and wine bottle in his table. "On the house." She said in a shy, almost inaudible voice.

"Err...thank you." Van said, a little muddled, and then turned to his soup. He did, however, become aware very quickly that she wasn't moving from her spot yet again.

"Is the soup to your liking, sir?" She asked hastily, realizing he'd just caught her staring at him once more.

"People here seem to have gotten very keen on costumer satisfaction." He thought. "I don't remember it being like _that_."

"Yes, it's very good...Compliments to the...cook." He was lying. The soup was awful and he bet she knew that perfectly well. But why wasn't she going away?

"C-Can I get you anything else, sir?" She asked, still not moving; the same deep blush tainting her cheeks.

"No... I'm fine. Thank you." What was the matter with her?

"Are you s-sure, sir? Maybe you'd like beer instead of wine? I c-could get it for you. If you'd like...sir."

The man to his left laughed out loud and this time Van saw him looking straight at the girl. So it _had_ been about her. He looked from the man, to the girl, to the man and back to the girl again and then something on the back of his mind clicked making him realize another something so obvious that he almost blushed himself.

She wasn't nervous, or stumbling on words, or trying so hard to be agreeable because she thought he was of importance; she was crushing on him. The way she was looking at Van gave it away perfectly. Why didn't he realize it sooner?

The girl however, seemed to figure out right away that she was being made fun of by the bearded man and fearing her little secret had been discovered, hastily and clumsily made her way back to the counter without another word to Van.

The young king was left to sigh in relief. He was in no mood to be ogled that night.

"I'm terribly sorry, young man." His neighbour suddenly said while putting down his book. "I'm afraid I've just scared away your little fan."

"You don't have to apologize." Van was fast to tell him and then whispered to himself: "I think I should be thanking you for it."

"Ah, youth!" The man exclaimed with a grin, looking at the girl trying to hide behind the counter. "So easy do they fall head over heels."

Van didn't really feel like replying, but he figured he had already exceeded his quota of disrespectfulness for one night so he made some polite remark to the man's affirmation.

"I've been actually noticing you for some time, young man; you're in an awfully sulky mood." The man said immediately after. "Problems with your lady?"

"Excuse me? W-what?"

The man laughed again at the disbelief so evident in Van's face and continued. "Young men like you are only found sulking like that for two reasons: women or money. And judging by your fancy outfit," The man said, quickly scanning Van's attire. "no disrespect intended of course, I'd say money doesn't trouble you. So what's wrong? Did your lady kick you out of the house?" He asked, clearly fighting a smile.

Van gaped stupidly at him. What was wrong with everybody that night?

The man was quick to catch on his distress though. "Alright, alright. I didn't mean to pry. Your business is your own." He said still joyful. "Let's just enjoy our meals quietly, shall we?" And he turned his attention to his food.

But Van didn't hear that last part. He had caught eye of the man's bare arms and now was staring straight at them with an unreadable expression. They where filled with scars! Each one longer and running deeper than the other.

He then carefully took on the man's entire appearance and realized something that had escaped him from the beginning. His posture, his mannerisms; they were the same as his own. Those of a soldier.

Vargas had always told him that it was easy to spot a man of war in a room full of people. There was something distinct about such a type of men that made them rise above the common ones. They were always on guard, yet appearing relaxed, they carried with them a sense of wisdom and confidence displayed itself in their every movement, and very often had the physical marks of battle plainly visible on them. Van had always felt himself more soldier than king. And he was sure _then_ that there was another soldier sitting right next to him.

The man must had sense his gaze, because he stopped eating and looked up at him quizzically. Van had been shamelessly caught looking at a stranger. There was no looking away now.

"War?" he asked, pointing to the man's scarred arms.

The man didn't seem upset by the question. He actually answered back with a smile. "_Wars_, actually." He then took Van's own appearance into consideration and exclaimed. "You don't seem to be unscathed yourself, young man."

Van traced his eyes till he settled his own on the pale line crossing the whole length of his right forearm. He had gotten it when Escaflowne had been damaged during a particularly bloody fight with the Dragon Slayers, along with many other wounds that would have cost him his life hadn't been for the healing powers of the Ispano people in mending his guymelef and most importantly, Hitomi's quick judgement.

And although Escaflowne's metal arm had not one vestige left of the deep cut, the scar on his own arm had never faded. He didn't really noticed it himself anymore, but, nonetheless, it was still there; as a constant reminder of his own imprudence and of how much important Hitomi had been to him after all; all there, carved right on his skin.

"Only one war for me." Van finally said, returning the smile politely.

"You were in a war already?" The man seemed truly surprised. "I see..." He narrowed his eyes at Van. "The Destiny War?"

Van nodded while taking a huge bite off of his wheat bread. At least that was edible enough.

"But you must have been a child then! How old are you now, if I may ask?"

"I'll be twenty-one in two moons."

Van was too engrossed in his bread to realize the sudden change of stance in the man next to him. He was very grave all of a sudden, studying Van's features more intently. "A child you were, then..." The man's voice was guarded, but not enough for Van to notice the change. "Are you in town for the festival?" He asked after a moment, in a more friendly tone.

Van nodded again.

"Where's home, then?"

Van stopped chewing. It was not like he felt at all bothered by the tenor of the questions, but he finally caught on the underlining curious tone with which they were being asked and, as the soldier he was, immediately stood on guard. "Up north." He answered with unassuming wary, while carefully taking in the man's subsequent reactions.

The two soldiers locked stares for a brief moment.

"I see..." The older one said, turning his attention back to his soup.

Had his eyes just widened for a second or was Van's brain playing a trick on him?

He gulped while watching his dinner companion eat quietly. Was the man recognizing him from somewhere? He was sure he'd seen some shadow of realisation come over the man just then, but now he appeared to be the same as ever; calm and good-humoured, enjoying his meal and even managing to hum some unknown tune.

"Are _you_ from town?" Van asked then, although by the man's appearance he could very well guess the answer.

"Who, me? Oh, no. I'm not even from Asturia." The man answered without looking at him. His voice sounded completely natural.

Van shook his head. He was being paranoid. There was obviously nothing wrong with the man.

"So you're here for the festival to?" Van inquired too in a friendly way, deciding to erase any suspicions the man could have conjured from the tone of his last question.

"No, I'm leaving tonight actually."

"Didn't you fight in the last war?" Van asked in amazement. He couldn't believe there was a soldier in town that was actually not planning to attend the damn festival. It felt like Gaea's whole army population had descended upon Pallas just for the sake of it.

The man laughed again. "Yes I did. I'm afraid however, that I am a little too old for all these excitements. They are better left to young people such as yourself."

And with that, the conversation between the two strangers ceased and they both returned to their respective meals. The young girl was still glancing at Van's table every once in awhile and still blushing every time he caught her looking at him not-so-innocently. He couldn't help grinning at that.

He never did quite understand why women reacted so strangely around him sometimes, especially when he wasn't acting like a 'king'. While on the royal court, where he couldn't hide his status, the nervousness some of them displayed was perfectly understandable.

After all, he was, as his advisors so tediously liked to remind him, a young and powerful ruler, pilot of the legendary Ispano guymelef Escaflowne, the man whose heroic demeanor during the Destiny War had inspired the new Gaean peace resolution and bla bla bla. Geez! They made him sound like he wasn't human.

He was surprised the ladies he was forced to meet were even capable of speaking straight to him at all, before passing out from standing beside so much greatness. He should passing out himself! No wonder his advisors were having such a hard time trying to find him a wife. Every woman he met thought he was some kind of god and because of it they assumed themselves unworthy of him. Except maybe, _Irina_. He shivered at the thought of her again.

But there, on a decrepit tavern, where he was pretending to be a simple costumer, where nothing pointed out who he was; to have the same kind of a reaction from a girl who knew absolutely nothing of him... He didn't get it!

The girl nearly dropped her tray full of empty beer mugs next to the table to his right, after realising Van was looking at her, which in turn made the bearded man laugh at her again.

"So, where _are_ you from?" Van asked him, rekindling their conversation. He really didn't care to know, but he had a clear suspicion the girl was about to come by his table again (he'd finished with his meal) and if she saw him talking to the man that was making fun of her she might feel encouraged to stay away.

"I'm actually from up north myself."

"Ah, Daedalus." Van assumed. He didn't look like he was from there though, Van thought. He was too bulky for a Daedalan.

The man shook his head. "No, up north."

Up north? Did he mean he was from Fanelia? No, he couldn't. Could he? Van would have known who he was. "You're from Fanelia?" He asked surprised, forgetting all about the girl for a moment.

The man immediately smirked at the suggestion not so well concealed in Van's voice and shook his head yet again. "Up north."

"Up north from Fanelia?" Van continued thinking, confused. "But that only leaves Zaiba-"

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed!" The man looked intently at him; his expression was unreadable. He was clearly studying Van's reaction. "Does that bother you?"

Van stared at him for a few moments; his own expression thoughtful. "No." He replied. "We're at peace now. And I've made my own peace with the war a long time ago. I hold no grudge against your country."

"I'm happy to hear you say that." And the man really appeared to be, yet he still bore a serious countenance. "Youth is usually less prone to let go of the past, even knowing it will do them no good to dwell on it."

Van nodded in acknowledgment. "It was... hard for me to let it go, don't get me wrong. Very hard. But there was… no other choice really. It was the only way to break the cycle of violence and I owed that to my peo- ...to _the_ people I'm around with." He mentally scolded himself. "Hold your tongue. Do you want him to find out who you are?" Thankfully the man didn't seem to notice his little slip...or he didn't have to.

He did shake his head in a grave manner. "That war... it should never had happened in the first place. It came at a high cost to too many people." He added looking straight at Van.

"Yes, it did. But I would not be the person I am today if I hadn't gone through that whole experience, if I hadn't met the people I did back then." Van unconsciously traced the pale scar on his forearm with his fingers. "I found myself in that war. I found what I wanted for my life. How I wanted to lead my peo-... _life_."

"Idiot!" A little voice screamed at him from the back of his mind.

The man didn't acknowledge his words though; he was lost in his own thoughts.

"There is not a day that goes by that I don't regret the part I played in that stupid war. How many families it destroyed, how many dreams it shattered, how many people got scarred by it, and not just physically. To think I was a part of it_…_ It is a hard burden to bear."

"I know."

Van knew that burden very well indeed. He had been able to make peace with the Destiny War, but not with what he himself had done during that war. The pain he had inflicted on others, the lives he had taken, still haunted him sometimes.

She had helped him with that back then, appeasing his sorrow, teaching him to forgive himself, but he could never fully accomplish it. The memories wouldn't go away and she was not there to save him from himself anymore. Despite how hard he wished she was sometimes.

"You were right." The words escaped Van's lips without him even realizing it.

"Pardon?"

"About the sulking."

"Oh, I assumed I was."

"She left. The girl I... I've thinking about her the whole day. She left after the war ended. I... let her leave, actually."

"Oh, I see... Do you regret it then?"

"No!" Van quickly replied. He never did regret it. He could never regret his decision. He knew she didn't belong by his side. "She had her own life back on the... back home. A very happy and secure life." He was quick to add. "Besides, I couldn't offer her anything she deserved. My... _the _country were I live was completely ravaged by the war. I... _we_ struggled a lot in the beginning to turn the situation around. She deserved better."

"But you haven't forgotten about her. Even after all these years?"

"Of course not. I promised I wouldn't."

"So... you're still in love with her then?"

"No." He promptly answered. "I do miss her, but...no. That would be... ridiculous. It's been five years and we haven't been together since. We've both moved on with our lives. I'm pretty happy with mine and she's pretty happy with hers, I'm sure."

"But you still keep in touch with her then?"

"Yes... sort of."

"And you still think about her often?"

"Often." He noticed the grin on the man's face. "But that's because I owe her a lot. She saved my life so many times I lost count. I'm grateful to her, very much so. That's why I think about her."

"I'm positive that's what you keep telling yourself. Is it working?"

"Not really."

The man let out another laugh at Van's honesty.

"I try not to think so much." He finally confessed. "I try to act like I don't care... And yet here I am; in the place we used to come to eat when we were in Pallas, sitting at the table we used to share... talking about her... to a stranger. And I have no idea why! I can't even stand to talk about her with my own friends."

"Well that's easy enough to understand." The man said with a shrug. "It's because you're still in love with her."

"..."

"Now, now, young man, I was once your age too, though I can hardly believe it sometimes. It seems so long ago! But I was once in love also... and in complete denial of it as well. I know that face your making. And if you can't fool a stranger, I'm positive you can't fool your friends either. You probably know _that_ and that's why you can't stand to talk to them about it. You see the truth in their eyes whenever the subject is mentioned and don't want to admit it to yourself."

Van found himself gaping at the man yet again and without being able to utter a word. Why was that? He should be saying something to prove the man wrong, shouldn't he? He didn't _love_ her, so why wasn't he saying something? "Because you know he's right." The little voice inside his head poked fun at him. "No, he's not." He thought immediately. "Yep, he is." The voice claimed again. "Yes...he is." Oh gods, the man was right.

He stared at the ocean ahead. Was it that simple? To recognize the delusion he had been putting himself through? Ouch! Who said the truth didn't hurt? Oh, if Allen could only imagine what was going on his head right then, he would have gone into a fit of laughter. Van would never hear the end of the 'I told you so' type of remarks.

Sensing that the sullen mood was returning to the young man beside him, the bearded man engaged Van in some light hearted conversation, trying to lift his spirits and very wisely decided not to return to the previous subject. Soon after, they were both ready to leave.

"Let me take care of the bill, will you?" The man said with a grin as they were getting up from their seats and while eyeing the counter . "I fear the poor girl will faint if she gets near you again."

Van nodded amused and went to wait for him at the tavern's entrance. For sure, the girl seemed truly disappointed to see Van's dinner companion and not the young man himself approach the counter to settle the bill. She glanced one last time at the object of her affections for that night, one last blush tainting her cheeks and resigned, followed to the kitchens after giving the man his change.

"Ah, it will be a shame about the weather." The man said after he and Van stopped outside the tavern so he could put his jacket on. The air had turned unexpectedly chilly. "Rain is never good when there's a festival being held."

Van looked at the star filled sky above them. There was not a cloud in sight. What could he mean by that?

"I think this is where I bid farewell to you, young man. I must get going before the roads get too packed. Gods know, no one will be able to leave this town by tomorrow."

He extended his hand forward and Van readily took it in a firm shake.

"I wish you a safe journey then and... thank you for-"

"Don't mention it. It was my pleasure. I wish you happiness and prosperity in life." The man then stopped and looked at him intensively; his expression more serious than it had been all night. "I really do."

But the seriousness was gone the very next second and he was back to his trademark good humour. "Farewell then!" He said and before Van could even begin to grasp the reason behind that last odd and grave remark, the man had already disappeared between the sea of people that then roamed the street.

The young king didn't move from his spot until a fierce gush of wind forced him to put his own jacket on, and he finally decided it was time to return to the palace.

The events of the last hour or so were repeating themselves in his mind as he walked back. He was only now acknowledging some very important realizations. He had just shared a conversation with a former Zaibach soldier. A former enemy.

A man who five years ago was probably given orders to capture him and even kill him. A man who five years ago Van would probably have gladly killed himself if he were to stand in his way. The scars on the man's arms came to his mind. Had he been responsible for any of those? Van shook his head to dismiss the thought. He couldn't admit to himself the possibility that he could have scarred such a polite and civil man.

And yet _he_ had been his enemy, fighting on the opposite side in the Destiny War. Defending the country who had ruined his own; who had stolen his brother from him. They were bound to have met at some point in battle, even if protected by a coat of metal, inside guymelefs. Yes, there was a high chance that they actually had fought against each other in the battlefield.

Two former mortal enemies meeting in peace time over dinner. He felt like laughing. What were the odds? And yet Van had the feeling that given other circumstances they could have really gotten along with each other. Was he not a man of war like Van? Did he not say he once even experienced the same aches of heart Van felt himself? Did he not just make him realize the deceit in his own heart? He was a perfect well educated man, with a nice sense of humour, good manners and Van had probably tried to finish him off five years ago.

He came to the sudden decision he had to go straight to Dryden and Millerna and apologize for his behaviour that night. He had let them down. He had let them _all_ down. All his friends. He should never have abandoned dinner like that. They were not to be blamed if he couldn't come to grips with his own feelings. The man had been right. Van was the one with the problem, not his friends. He avoided them because deep down he knew they were right about his feelings and he didn't feel comfortable admitting them out loud.

Such thoughts accompanied him on his way back to the palace grounds. He was in fact so much absorbed in them that he failed to hear his name being called several times as he passed through the gates, failing also to notice someone franticly making its way towards him, through the scarcely illuminated gardens.

"Sire, we've been looking everywhere for you!"

Van looked up to recognize the Asturian minister of foreign affairs. A genteel man of seventy-five, who looked more like someone's old grandfather than the head of such a rigorous and draining ministry.

Van suppressed a smile. "I'm sure you have." And then in a more serious tone: "I'm sorry to have caused you trouble."

"Oh, please sire. No trouble at all." He quickly assured him, but Van could sense by the way the old minister was scanning him up and down, that he was very much relieved to see him back safe and sound. Poor man! He cared too much for his own health.

"I'll alert the Queen and King you've returned safely." He hastily added.

That brought Van's resolve back. "That won't be necessary." Van told him. "I'm on my way to see them now. I suppose I can still find them in the dinning-parlour?"

"No sire. The group has parted for a while now. Most have retired for the night, but her Majesties, the knight Schezar and their young lady guest are currently in the study room having tea."

Van stopped on his tracks. "So the _lady_ hasn't retired yet. Alright." He thought. "I might as well get this over and done with. I'll have to meet her eventually anyway." And so after biding good night to the minister, he quickly made his way to the west wing of the palace's first floor, where the royal family's private chambers were situated.

"It will just be for a few minutes." He kept whispering to himself as he went along. "She's bound to retire soon. It's already late. I can do this."

As he stepped onto the destined corridor he quickly became aware of a tumult of noise behind the large wooden doors that led to Dryden's study and as he approached them, he could clearly distinguish some very familiar voices, engaged in conversation.

He recognized Millerna's first. She didn't sound very pleased, that's for sure. "Well, I hope you're satisfied with yourselves. I told you a thousand times, we should have told him from the beginning."

The next voice to be heard was Dryden's. He was quick to counterattack. "And how were we supposed to know he would run away like that?"

"He always tries to run away like that, Dryden! He is actually so good at running away that in the last two years he has managed to escape every reunion altogether. So don't tell me _this _wasn't to be expected." His wife retorted heatedly.

Van heard the older king sigh heavily. "Weren't Celena and Merle supposed to be guarding the door?"

"So you're blaming my sister now?" Allen seemed to wake up to the conversation. "You know very well she stayed by that damn door with Merle for most of the time he was there. In any case they probably just prevented him from fleeing earlier. He would have found some way to escape, I'm certain." Van muffled a laugh. So they _did_ all conspire against him that night! Well, wasn't that refreshing to know?

"How can we blame him anyway?" Millerna said then, still agitated. "After the stunts you pull on him, Dryden?"

"Me?"

Van made a mental note to be especially kind to Millerna in the future, for criticizing her husband like that in his defence.

"They must be alone already." He thought a little more relaxed. "She must've retired. They wouldn't talk about me like that with a complete stranger in the room...Would they?"

He leaned his ear against the door for better hearing.

What he heard then made every muscle in his body freeze.

"There's something I don't understand."

Oh, no!

Who was _that_ voice from?

"Why does he run away?"

No, no, no, no, no!

This could not be happening to him.

What was she still doing in there?

She shouldn't be listening to _that_.

And why had the others gotten so quiet all of a sudden?

"About that..." He heard Millerna finally say. "Hmm...you see sometimes...quite a few times actually, Dryden here…"

"What?"

His wife ignored him. "He invites some...family friends... over for dinner in the spirit of enlarging Van's acquaintances. He's not the type of person to do that on his own, you see... Well, Van being _Van _doesn't exactly feel very comfortable with it, mostly because _someone_ always fails to mention it to him..."

"What? It's my fault now?" Dryden cried in exasperation.

He was ignored yet again. "So Van tends to find some way or another to... escape." Allen continued Millerna's explanation. "He usually fakes some sudden mild illness, or important business he has to attend to and cannot delay. But he never did simply run away like that, right under our noses! It was quite ingenious actually."

Van felt like hitting his head against the wall. He had never been more mortified in his life. Forget the apologies he meant to give to them. His mind was now solely occupied with concocting vindictive schemes against his three so-called friends. How could they say such things in front of someone he'd never met?

"Really?" He heard the lady say, accompanied by something else.

Van stared at the closed door in front of him in complete outrage. Was that a _laugh_? Did she just laugh at his expense?

"To be fair, we're all at fault here." Allen said next. "We kept teasing him all throughout the evening and Dryden and I did a very, very poor job in keeping him checked." He paused for a second. "Actually, if I'd been him, I would have run away too. We were absolutely dreadful to him! Don't look at me like that Dryden, you know I'm right; and _you_ were the one who started it."

After another short pause, where Van figured some not-so-warm stares where exchanged between the Asturian king and the Caelli knight, the latter continued. "The truth is we didn't tell him who you were. We sort of played around with him, and he doesn't take things like that with a light heart, I'm afraid. I guess… we just pushed him over the edge."

Van grumbled. "You can say that again."

He could tell by Allen's tone that the knight was trying very hard to dismiss the heavy atmosphere inside the study room. "I'm sure he'll show up sooner or latter." He didn't sound very convincing though. "Don't take this the wrong way, please. It's nothing against you."

"It's alright. I don't mind. Really." The lady in question quietly said, trying to sound cheerful.

Van snickered. That was about the least convincing 'I don't mind.' he'd ever heard, and he didn't even need to know the person who'd said it to be sure of it.

He was beginning to dislike that young _lady_ more and more with each passing minute. First she laughed at him, and then she innocently pretended she didn't care about his company after all? Oh, he had seen that play before! And courtesy of Dryden, he had seen it performed by almost every type of aristocratic woman he had the unhappiness of being acquainted with every time he sat foot in that damn country.

Great!

Now, he had to share godparent responsibilities with someone he utterly disliked. Just great! His godchild was in for one very interesting baptism ceremony.

"If you ask my opinion he acted like a complete child."

"Dryden!" Millerna was quick to show her shock.

And a lot quicker than Van, that's for sure; as he found himself gaping in disbelief at the closed door for a long time.

"I'm sure he must have had some strong reason to leave."

Now even _she_ was trying to ease the situation, making excuses for him. "Will you stop playing the victim, lady?" He felt like screaming at her.

"No, absolutely not. I refuse to forgive his behaviour." He heard Dryden say. "It was completely uncalled for. No, don't even try to defend him Millerna. He behaved like an irresponsible, petulant child this evening and if he ought to have some shred of common sense in that stubborn, thick head of his-"

"That's enough!" Van hissed not so quietly, and with one quick yank of the door knob he opened the study door and glanced fiercely at its occupants.

Dryden and Millerna were sitting behind a small desk facing his way, while the other two occupants sat opposite them, with their backs to Van.

The king was the first one to notice him standing in the doorway.

"By the gods Van, where were you?" he demanded to know, angrily.

Van was just about to lash out at him, when the young woman who he had been so occupied in despising for the last few minutes, turned around ever so slightly, making him immediately take notice of her features.

Furious eyes locked with kind, oddly recognizable ones; and in one split second Van's brain went into full overdrive.

He gasped.

And she gasped right back.


End file.
